Things grandparents say

Me: Um, Mom, she's eating a book.

My mom: We don't eat books.

Baby: Keeps on munching on a book.

My mom: We don't eat books. We read books.

Baby: Nom nom nom.

My mom: Grandpa lets you eat books. I don't.

Oh, babies.

On debit cards and patience

This is the story of a lady with two checking accounts, two savings accounts, and zero debit cards.

Sigh.

As I blogged about before, I lost a lot of important financial stuff over the weekend. (Note to self: At least I didn't lose my taxes and social security card like I did that time I was trying to fill out paperwork to buy a house. Ahem. That was a fun night trying to find those things.)

Before anyone asks, no, someone did not steal my checkbook, checks and debit card.

I'm sometimes a dumbass who loses things on a pretty regular basis.

Anyway, I needed to switch banks because my current bank is leaving town soon. On my lunch break I went to the credit union to open an account.

I walked in, they knew my name, asked me how my parents were, and we got down to business.

Oh, small towns, how I love thee.

There's a catch, though - it turns out there's more than one credit union in town. It turns out that I'm a dumbass and I opened an account at the wrong one, the one that doesn't offer debit cards.

I need a debit card like I need wine and rum. (Insert note about how I'm not an alcoholic here.)

It would be great if I could do this again.

After I realized my mistake, I went back to the perfectly fine credit union to close my account, which was a whopping 20-minutes old at that point.

They didn't seem to mind, and everyone was perfectly nice to me. The one lady who could help me was on the phone, so I sat down and waited.

I checked Pinterest.

I checked Reddit.

I read emails, I answered emails.

One of my biggest vices in life is my patience. During job interviews, when people ask the question about your biggest weakness, or what you would change about yourself, I always say something about how my patience is always a work in progress.

But the truth is that I'm not really working on it. It's non-existent, extinct at this point.

If I want to do something, I want to do it now. Not later, now.

Is it done yet? No? Can you do it now, then?

Every minute I sat in that chair listening to other accounts being opened was like sitting in a small room hearing nails on a chalkboard.

It dragged on.

And on.

And on.

AND ON AND ON AND ON AND ON.

Sigh.

Like I said, everyone was perfectly nice to me. I eventually found the right bank to go to, which means I'll finally have a debit card in about two weeks.

TWO WEEKS?

Triple sigh.

Texting

I was texting today about life with a friend.

The conversation went something like:

'I'm pretty sure adulthood is like swimming through a sea full of shit blindfolded.'

Yes, I love the description that I came up with.

Today was not a fun day, but tomorrow might be better. And if tomorrow is not better, I'll be sitting on a beach drinking rum in about two weeks.

So, there's that. 

Change and spirit.

Change is hard.

I'm pretty sure my church changed the words to prayers about three to five years ago, but I'm behind on the times.

I say the prayers wrong every single time.

For some really weird reason, "also be with you" suddenly became "with your spirit."

With your spirit? Who actually says that in every day conversation?

-----

Over the weekend I managed to lose my debit card, checkbook and the box of checks I just bought now too long ago.

How am I so talented?

I have no idea.

I have the reciept that for the thing that I last bought with my debit card, but no debit card.

The store didn't have any lost cards turned in. It's not in my purse, car or house.

My poor debit card is probably hanging out in a parking lot somewhere, cold and lonely.

Sigh.

A Christmas story

Christmas in my family often involves people being sick.

Last year I had bronchitis and spent the entire week of Christmas coughing up a lung. I also got tested for the flu on Christmas Eve last year, which involves a nurse sticking a Q-Tip up your nose so far it probably reaches your brain.

Note to self: I don't like things being stuck up my nose. I was not in a good mood last year on Christmas.

This year my mood is better. I'm healthy! People in my family, though, are not.

The Crap is apparently going around. I haven't gotten it yet, and I think I've done a pretty good job of quarantining myself from those who have it.

Except one cute little 11-month old girl.

One of my nieces is sick. I picked her up today and rocked her. I rubbed her back, shushed her whimpers, and told her it she would feel better in a few days.

Sick babies become cuddly when they don't feel good. She laid her head on my shoulder, put her arms around me and fell asleep.

Aww. We were having an aunt-baby moment. 

Since she was sleeping anyway, I decided to put her down for a nap. I laid beside her, rubbed her tummy and talked sweetly to her, hoping she'd fall back asleep.

She slapped me in the face five times and stole my glasses from my face.

Oh, well, I guess cute cuddly moment is over.

I don't blame her. That's what I feel like doing when I don't feel good, too.

This kid rocks, by the way.

(This was written yesterday.)

Merry Christmas Eve!

"It's not a mistake if you learned from it." - My boss

That's a good quote.

Merry Christmas Eve!

Oh, please.

The following may or may not be a true story. I'll let you decide.

-----

Dad and daughter walk into a liquor store on Saturday night.

Dad: I don't know where the rum is.

Daughter: ...

See, the thing is the daughter has a lot of problems in life, but not knowing where the rum is in a liquor store is not among those problems.

Let's just say the daughter did indeed find the rum. And it was delicious.

Not knowing where the rum is.

Oh, please.

  

Hint, hint.

I was eating lunch today, watching my nieces take turns trying to eat my purse, when something funny happened.

One baby came up to me and pointed to my lap.

Aww, she wants me to hold her! That's adorable, I thought. I must be the best aunt ever!

Then I looked down.

Said baby didn't want to be held. She was pointing at Pug hair on my pants.

After she pointed it out, she went about her baby business in another room.

I took the hint, lint rolled myself, then went back to work.

Babies.

Aunt 1, Baby 0

One of my nieces doesn't like wearing clothes.

When her dad is changing her, he has a talk with her about how big girls have to wear clothes.

When he tells me that story, I laugh. I've also never really experienced said dislike for not wearing clothes until this week.

My dad (baby's grandpa) was changing said baby into a sleeper earlier this week. I came in the room, told the baby hello, and noticed that my dad silently left the room.

He'll be back, I thought. I started playing toys with the baby. I showed her how they make noise. She mimicked me and played with the same toy. I kissed her chubby little cheeks. I told her I had her toes. She laughed and was pretty happy.

My dad never came back into the room.

Hmm. What's an aunt to do with a baby wearing only a diaper? Her sleeper was right beside her. I should probably dress her, I thought.

I tried. She cried. (I should write a poem about this.) My dad came back into the room, smiled at me, wished me good luck and then left the room again.

The aunt thing is a hard gig sometimes.

The baby who doesn't like wearing clothes won't work with you at all. If I put her foot in a sleeper, she'll kick it out. If I want her to put her little hand into a fist to go through a long-sleeve shirt, she'll flex her fingers out as far as she can.

Kid, work with me here!

I bent over her to work on her sleeves. She started kicking me. I'm pretty sure her goal was to kick me in the face.

Sigh.

Once her sleeper was finally on, I zipped it up, handed a clothed and pissed off baby over to my parents, then returned the favor and left the room.

Aunt 1, Baby 0.

Nothing better

I haven't written about the babies in a while. They've changed a ton over the past few months. My favorite thing about babies who are almost a year old versus just-born babies?

They actually interact with people now.

When I smile at them they smile back. They laugh if you make a silly noise. They really like books. They have attitude. They talk and say "Mama" and "Bada."

We have no idea what "Bada" means, but it's pretty cute when they say it.

I walked into my mom and dad's house one day and one baby was following my dad around everywhere.

This is how their conversation went:

Baby: "Mama!"

My dad: "I'm not your Mama."

Baby: "Mama!"

My dad: "Your Mama's working. I'm not your Mama."

Baby: "Mama!"

My dad: "Stop calling me Mama."

Baby: "Mama!"

It was really funny.

I don't know of anything else that causes so much happiness as these two little ones do. There's nothing better than babies.

Blurbs

I wore a black shirt the other day.

The amount of dog hair I picked off of it by 9:30 a.m. was impressive. After 9:30 a.m., I decided I didn't care and rocked the black shirt and dog hair.

-----

I have a Keurig in my office, which is pretty much the best thing ever.

I'm not a huge coffee person, but I do like a cup of hot apple cider in the winter.

I'm out of cider at the moment, though. I have some k-cups that were given to me that I've been drinking.

After I brewed one cup, I sat down in my office chair and decided it needed to be stirred. My choices were to walk about 15 feet to the break room for a spoon to stir my coffee, or be lazy, not move and use a pen on my desk.

I'll let you guess which one I picked.

Don't bother the introvert

People who talk a lot bug me.

This probably isn't shocking to anybody who really knows me well (haha).

A couple nights ago I went to a craft store, prepared to zone out and look at all the pretty stuff.

I was looking at all the pretties when I heard something irritating. Somebody was talking an isle over from me. I couldn't understand the words, but it was a low tone and consistent. It went on for a few minutes and I started to wonder how the person could talk so much without pausing to breathe.

How annoying.

I tried to continue shopping but I couldn't. The person just kept on talking. I walked to the other isle to see what the noise was. There were two young girls, probably teenagers, and one was reading a text message to the other one.

I think there should be a rule in craft stores. Don't be noisy and don't bother the introvert who wants to look at pretty stuff.

Ahem.

Talking to have a meaningful conversation with someone, even in a store, is okay. Talking to hear yourself talk is just noise. 

I hate noise. 

(When alcohol is not involved I'm fond of quietness, not hearing people talk and peace.)

Please people, some introverts love that store and don't want to hear your drama while in it.

And now I officially sound old.

I want this.

Confessions

No, this isn't church and you're not going to read my deep dark sins.

Instead, my confession is that I kind of miss watching Lost.

We started in April, according to my blog posts, and ended in August.

Both Dr. Google and Facebook know this about me, which means I often get Lost advertisements and such.

This one is actually pretty good: 33 jokes only people who watched "Lost" will find funny

Opinions and observations:

• I LOVE FARADAY. Hipster Faraday? Love it!
• I'm naming my wifi after Lost.
• Jacob's rules, so much loling there. I about died.
• You got some Arzt on you...
• It has to grow back!
• Roses are red/violets are blue/ 4 8 15 16 23 42
• "I get to live forever until I die." That one did me in. I need to have a moment to myself now to try to contain my giggles.

Borderline

Part of my New Year's resolution next year is to live as frugally as possible.

Well, maybe.

To be honest, I hate New Year resolutions and I hate people who make them. Last year at the gym it took an act of God to find a machine from January to about mid-March. After the new year, it was as if everyone in town suddenly realized that exercising is good for you and maybe you should do it often and better your life.

I mean, the audacity those people have!

Kidding aside, I'm just not a resolutions kind of a person. But I've been thinking of ways I could better my life and growing my savings account seems like a pretty good thing to do.

So my latest thing is being frugal.

(It's probably a phase that won't last long.)

Over the weekend I went through my closet and realized I don't use a lot of what's in it. Those old t-shirts from college have holes in them and are useless.

Or are they?

I took a pair of scissors to one t-shirt on Sunday. I came up with seven dust rags FOR FREE! I was pretty proud of myself. I don't have to buy rags now!

But I guess I do have to clean.

Ah, bummer.

I have a pin on Pinterest for making a rug out of old t-shirts. Unfortunately my favorite colors are red and purple, so that would be one funky looking rug.

Maybe I'll just stick to my rag-making ways and forget about the rug for now.

I also saw a pin for re-using old k-cups. Most of the ideas were stupid. And then I realized there's a fine line between being frugal and being crazy.

I'm borderline, I think.

Burrowing

On Saturday morning I told my dog to go outside.

Instead of listening to me, she burrowed her head underneath the covers and ignored me.

I let her sleep in longer. Who am I to question a Pug who doesn't want to wake up yet?

I have days when I want to hide my head too, Penny. I don't blame you. You summed up perfectly how I feel about life sometimes.

Sidenote: Aww, she's cute. I can't resist Pugs or their butts.

Dog butt.

On news and reading things correctly

I would consider spelling, paying attention to the news, caring about the world you live in and reading all really important things.

Yesterday morning I woke up around 5 a.m. Bleary eyed, I looked at my phone. I saw a breaking news update about the president nominating someone for the secretary of defense job.

The person's name is Ashton Carter.

At 5 a.m., sleepy and barely awake, I read that name as Ashton Kutcher.

Um, I thought, is this a weird Dennis Rodman type of thing? Is this really happening? What's the world coming to? Am I safe here? Do I need to pack up and move somewhere?

I was kind of angry, in a sleepy way. When I read the correct name a minute later, all was okay with the world again and I peacefully went back to sleep.

Ashton Kutcher.

Ha, ha.

Not really related, but still relevant.

Hallelujah

I don't have much to say today, but I do have something to share.

Isn't this all sorts of wonderful?

Hallelujah

Grumble.

I oftentimes can't express in words how I feel about certain topics. When that happens, I like to borrow other people's words.

Yeah, it's been one of those weeks.

Everyone needs to read this: 26, Unmarried and Childless

Parts I like:

"So when you — friends, family, acquaintances, Twitter followers and blog readers — remind me that I’m far behind where one would expect to be at my age, it makes me feel broken. I feel like I’ve done something wrong. I feel like I’m letting you down or making some horrible mistake."

"Instead of relishing in the freedom, blessings and limitless possibilities that this stage of life offers me, I am left frozen, feeling like I’m not enough. Like what I’ve done doesn’t really matter or that I’ve accomplished nothing. I’m an outcast. I’m defective. I’m panicked. When you comment on my life stage as if there was something I could do to change it, it makes me feel inadequate. Most days I truly do love where I’m at right now, but when people question my marital status, I think I’m messing up my chances to do anything worthwhile with my life."

"When you ask these questions, it doesn’t help me grow. It doesn’t help me feel content with where I am. It does more damage than you realize."

I'm also going to include a link to an amazing song for no real reason. I just like it and it makes me smile. Hozier - Take Me to Church 

Impressive feat.

I haven't been blogging lately because I don't have anything huge going on right now to share with the world.

There's a list of blog posts that I've started that I suppose I can share.

These two are from a couple of months ago.

-----

My dog achieved several impressive feats over the weekend.

I haven't been sleeping well at night, and as a result I've been tossing and turning a lot. This irritates my dog and for the past few nights she's slept on her dog bed.

She was on her dog bed last night as I was falling asleep. Pretty soon she jumped up beside me, burrowed her head in my covers and then found a comfortable spot beside me.

She usually asks permission to do this, but last night she gave no shits about whether I wanted her beside me or not.

Fine, I thought. Who am I to question a Pug?

I woke up this morning to a muffled alarm sound. It was 30 minutes past the time when I usually wake up. I couldn't figure out where my phone was to turn my alarm off.

After some searching, I realized my dog was laying on it, which dulled the sound of the alarm.

When I went to make her go outside, she just laid there and stared at me. She didn't move an inch. She was also laying horizontal across the bed and taking up more space than I do when I sleep.

I don't think my dog is in to this 'Monday' thing.

-----

Pain is a funny thing.

I've been in enough pain to know when to give up trying to fix the problem myself and ask a doctor for help.

In between doctor's visits, though, I have this nasty habit of asking Dr. Google for help.

Note to everyone reading this: Don't ever WebMD your problems.

Anyway, in doing a Google search for sinus infections, or as I like to call it, my mysterious face pain, I ran across some golden advice on the interwebs.

If you have multiple sinus infections in one year, you could have another problem. Like allergies.

Thank you, internet, for telling me things that I already know.

You're a jerk.

Update: I had an allergy test done last week. I get the results this week. I spent a day moping around, mad at the world. I was expecting it to be quick and dirty (in that they'd take my blood and call me a week later).

Nope, it can't ever be that simple. It turned into a "hm, you have some issues you have to come back" and "hm, you might have to be referred to someone else."

So yay, we might get to add one more doctor to the mix. As you can tell, I'm very excited about this.

(Sarcasm.)

Sarcasm and crabbiness aside, I'm kind of looking forward to knowing what I'm allergic to. I have suspicions, but it will be nice to know for sure.

(Whine: Can I ever have a medical problem that DOESN'T turn into a huge months-long debacle? I'm guessing no, but we'll see.)